


Hetalia Boyfriend Scenarios

by Scriptor_Bellum



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, most chapters won't be as long as the first one XD, warnings and stuff might change!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 03:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10913583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor_Bellum/pseuds/Scriptor_Bellum
Summary: Love stories between you and the characters of Hetalia!Will include: America, Canada, China, Denmark, England, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Lithuania, Poland, Prussia, Romano, Russia, and Switzerland.Character requests CLOSED, scenario requests OPEN!





	Hetalia Boyfriend Scenarios

**Author's Note:**

> Haha this chapter is... way longer than it should be! XD Future chapters are definitely probably not gonna be this long ever again unless it's a really special one.
> 
> Anyways! I absolutely love the 'boyfriend scenario' stories and Hetalia has so many great characters to play with...! I picked out some of my favorites and decided to give this a shot.
> 
> Let me know if you like and if you have any scenario requests!! :D Thank you for reading! <3

**America**

Out of all the Fourth of July celebrations you’ve ever seen or attended, this one has to be the most over-the-top.

Of course, that’s just how you like it! There’s so much good food, a lot of fun games, and the fireworks are about to start in a few minutes. Even though you’ll be able to see the huge display from almost anywhere, it would still be nice to have a comfortable seat. The whole night’s been awesome so far; a great place to watch the light show in the sky will make it complete.

It’s been a little lonely without your friends, but you _really_ wanted to come to the festival, and everyone else was having their own little parties at home. That’s totally okay! At least you tell yourself that. Heh. They’d probably just slow you down, anyway, right? None of your friends know quite how to have a wild time like you do. Besides, you can tell them all about how much fun you had tomorrow.

You’re glancing around to find an ideal spot to sit when suddenly you bump smack into somebody. “Oof–!” The cup of nearly-gone lemonade you had in one hand slips from your fingers, and you stumble just a little.

You look up to apologize, and find yourself gazing into a pair of bright blue eyes shielded by a pair of transparent lenses. They’re attached to a round face framed by thick locks of short golden hair, and a well-built, slightly pudgy frame. “Oh, geez, I’m sorry about that!” The young man quickly grabs your wrist to keep you from falling, although you were definitely in no danger of that. “Wow – oh, my God, I shoulda been watching where I was going.” Once he realizes that you’re okay, his hand slowly slips away. “Uhhh… h-hey, let me – let me get you another drink!”

“Oh, no, it’s fine, really!” For some reason, your wrist feels too light without his hand there. A sincere smile stretches across your face. “There wasn’t much left! Seriously, don’t worry about it.” Wow. The longer you look at him, the more you realize that he is… _really_ cute. “Um… I’m (Y/N).”

“Hah… nice to meet you, dudette. I’m Alfred.” The two of you avoid a handshake, but he smiles back at you. “Hey, um… this is probably kinda, you know, out of the blue or creepy or whatever, but – do you wanna sit with me to watch the fireworks? It’s – it’s totally okay if you don’t! It’s just, I have this really nice spot where you can see everything just perfect, and… if you wanna join me, uh…”

Whoa, what’s with your luck today? The offer is kind of just what you’re looking for: a place to sit with a great view of the fireworks next to a good-looking guy. It’s funny that the day you have the best luck is the day you’re completely alone. Funny… in a sad kind of way. But hey, you’ll take what you can get. “Hey, yourself, that sounds awesome! I was looking for a place to watch them, and it would be nice to watch with a cool guy like you.”

You could swear his face turns just the littlest bit red. “Oh… really? Well – I mean, I mean – cool! Uh, would if be okay if…” He raises his hand up and reaches toward yours, looking a bit nervous. The basic idea of what he’s asking is there, though.

Your hand swings over, gently grasping his fingers as you give him another smile. “How’s this?”

It doesn’t take too long to get to the spot he mentioned, and he downplayed it. This is the _best_ place to watch from. You can see everything. The only fireworks you can’t see from here are the ones that go really low and don’t make it over the trees down at the main area. The two of you settle in pretty easily, and the lawn chairs he’s got set up are actually pretty comfy. There’s a plate of cookies he put between the two of you, and even though you’ve been somewhat shy about taking them, they’re delicious.

The show starts only a few moments after the two of you get situated, and it’s amazing. There are fireworks of every type and color, spectacular patterns and sounds, and the last display of the night is a grand explosion. It ends in dazzling red, white, and blue fireworks that spell out _Happy Birthday America._ That grin on Alfred’s face seems to get wider with every one – he’s out of his seat cheering by the end of it.

“This is so cool!” you shout over the fading echoes of the finale. “How is nobody else in this spot?!”

Some of the bright colors are still in the sky, and they glint off his glasses as he turns toward you. His grin dissolves into a smile that looks like an attempt to be humble. “Well, today’s my birthday, so every year I actually reserve this spot like a month in advance! It just ends the whole day with a bang, y’know?”

“Oh, wow! Well, happy birthday!” It’s crazy that his birthday is the same day as America’s independence, but it’s not unbelievable. After all, some people have their birthdays on Christmas and Valentine’s Day, too.

“Thanks!” Before you can even think about leaving, Alfred’s hand reaches toward yours again. “You made this one really special!”

_Gosh._ Just hearing something so sweet more than makes up for being alone most of the night.

* * *

**Canada**

Nothing beats some ice-skating after a long day of work, stress, and studying. Although it might seem like an intimidating activity, once you find your ‘ice legs’ and get confident in your abilities, it’s one of the most relaxing things in the world to you. It’s the same kind of feeling you get playing on a swing, turned up to eleven. The way you feel like you’re flying across the ice makes you feel graceful and free.

There’s only one thing that could make ice-skating better: having a partner to skate with. Oh, wouldn’t that be something? Doing figure eights and spinning into each other’s arms, rehearsing elegant routines that would make everyone else stare in awe… kissing and cuddling with warm drinks by a crackling fireplace after putting up your skates. _Boy._ That sounds like a dream! And what better place to meet another ice-skater than at an ice rink? If your dream is ever going to come true, maybe it’s time to start actually looking around to find cute boys around here. Hopefully there are more guys here than there were last time you came…

Your gaze shifts from looking at the ice to glancing around at everybody else. Well, nobody who looks your type is over there. Or there. Or–

Just as you turn to look the other way, your body collides with someone else’s. For the moment you can’t tell if they fell down or not, because you fell on your own rear end. “Ouch…!”

“Maple leaf–! Oh, no, no… where’d they go…?” The other person’s voice meets your ears at about the time you look over to see if they’re alright. You find yourself staring at an attractive blonde guy, with purplish-blue eyes and a red hoodie bearing the Canadian flag. He’s currently on his knees, hands patting the ice for… oh.

You scramble over and grab the pair of glasses that fell on the ice before anyone can step on them or anything. “Hey, hey!” In a moment they’re back on the boy’s face, and you’re holding out an apologetic hand to him. “I’m guessing those are yours. I’m so sorry about that! Are you okay?”

The look on his face turns from frantic to just surprised as he looks at you. “O-Oh… gosh… I can’t believe I ran into you like that!” His cheeks flush in sync with him carefully taking your hand and pulling himself up. “I’m – I’m sorry, too. A-And don’t worry about me, I’m fine! A-Are you okay, though?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good! Heh, sorry… that was my fault for getting distracted.” Your hand lingers for a moment, then slides out of his hand. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Y-Yeah! Right as rain!” He pulls his hand away kind of fast, but then just starts fidgeting with his own fingers. “U-Um… how about I buy you a hot chocolate to make up for that…?”

A smile settles on your face and you feel your own cheeks heat up a little. “Oh, y-you don’t have to do that! In fact, uh… I mean. If you’re gonna do that, why don’t I buy you one, too?”

Even though his smile is kind of nervous, it looks really cute on his face. “Um… y-yeah, that sounds like a nice idea! We can take a little break and treat each other, eh?” He wrings his hands for another moment before holding out one arm to you. “H-Here, let me.”

“A-Aw… thanks.” Within a few seconds, your arm is carefully laced through his. “My name’s (Y/N), by the way. Yours?”

“Oh, I’m – um, my name’s Matthew. A lot of people call me Mattie, though, so… you can do that, if you want!” It looks like his face is still a little red; although you’re sure yours is too, it just strikes you are kind of adorable. “It’s nice to meet you. I-I mean… obviously, it would’ve been cool if we met without running into each other, haha, but, um…”

Both of you laugh as you head off the rink and over toward the snack bar. “Well, at least neither of us got hurt!” you point out, sitting down to take off your skates. “Besides, if we hang out more and get to be friends, when people ask how we met, we’ll have a funny story.”

“O-Oh, hey, that’s true! We should become friends just for that!” It’s clearly a joke, with the way he grins afterwards, but you have to say that you start entertaining the idea.

Although the two of you get your hot chocolate rather quickly, you start feeling warm before you even take a sip.

* * *

**China**

Babysitting isn’t the most glamorous job in the world, and you faced that truth long ago. Who wants to change diapers and get spit up on? But when your friend needs your help to take care of her baby so that she can go out to some job interviews, you can’t bring yourself to say no. Your friend’s a good person who’s trying her best to be responsible – you’re happy to take the little girl for an afternoon here and there.

The mall isn’t very crowded today, so you’re just hanging around on a bench with the baby in her stroller. She’s sitting there playing with the cereal you put on her tray, making noises, while you’re shaking rattles and other toys in an effort to engage her in _something._ If she won’t eat her food, then maybe she’ll play with you. This attempt to get her to focus isn’t working either, though. A few chuckles leave your mouth when the baby starts babbling and waving her hands. “What? What’re you talkin’ about?” you giggle, reaching to grab her hands and shimmy around in your seat. “You see something interesting?”

Out of nowhere, you hear a voice behind you. “ _ Ó, wǒ de tiān a! _ That  is so cute!”

When you turn around to see who it is, the person’s already made their way to take a seat beside you. It’s actually a pretty cute guy, with long dark hair in a ponytail and the most beautiful brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Judging by his accent and the basic Chinese you know, it’s probably safe to guess that he’s Chinese. It also seems that he’s not shy about starting a conversation; it’s actually kind of nice to see someone who’s so bold.

“Aw, thanks!” You flash him a smile and keep your hands in the baby’s, wiggling them around. “‘Hewwo, my name’s Jenny and I’m the cutest widdle baby in the whoooole wide world!’” you coo, taking your voice up a pitch and using baby talk.

The man smiles back at you, then  it turns into him beaming at your little display. “ _ Duōme kě’ài!! _ ”  One finger extends to one of the girl’s hands, allowing her to grip it tightly before he gives her hand a careful shake. “ _ Nǐ hǎo, _ Jenny! My name is Yao! Very nice to meet you!”

Since he’s so clearly enjoying this, (and Jenny’s started squealing with laughter), you continue in the same voice. “‘It’s vewwy nice to meet you, too, Mr. Yao! I hope you’re having a goooood day!’”

“Well, it better now that I’ve seen someone so adorable!” That smile on his face looks like it could light up an entire room. He’s certainly captured your attention in the middle of a big mall, which is no easy feat. He adjusts the bag on his arm before glancing toward you. “So, Jenny, what your mommy’s name? You having fun with her today?”

With that, you break character and let go of Jenny’s hands, starting to laugh. “ My name’s (Y/N), and a ctually, she’s not mine! She’s my friend’s little girl. I’m just taking care of her for the afternoon. We’ve been having fun, though!” The baby starts babbling again when you run a hand through her hair. “What did we do, Jenny? We walked by the book store… and then we went into the novelty shop where that lady pinched your cheek! We were gonna head to the toy store, but I figured it would be a good idea to stop and have something to eat first. Exceeeept…” You grin and gently poke Jenny’s tummy. “ _ Someone _ would rather play with her cereal than eat it! Maybe we don’t need to go to the toy store – you can just play with your lunch!”

Yao laughs right along with you and sets his bag down. “ _ Wa! Nǐ shì fǎnpàn zhě ma? _ ” Before you know what’s happening, he’s opened his bag and pulled out a little pink plush rabbit. “I actually just came from toy store! It kind of silly, but I have so many cute plushies at home, maybe I can spare one.” He shakes the toy around in front of her face and hums a little tune. “She can have it if that okay with you and her mommy?”

“Oh–” You can feel your face turn red, and you try to hide it with a smile. _Wow,_ what kind of a sweetheart would offer something he just bought to a baby he doesn’t really know? It could be some kind of weird prank, but… this guy seems really genuine. “You don’t have to do that, really!”

“No, no, it no problem! It make me so happy to see her have fun with it. I can always get more! I… go to toy stores a lot, because I like cute things,” he admits with a sheepish flush rising in his face. “Only if it okay with you, I mean…”

It seems like  the choice is made for you when Jenny grabs the plush from his hands, promptly starting to chew and drool on it. She’s got a big smile on her face, and she seems to really like it. After a moment of watching her, you let out a soft sigh. “Um… thanks. That was really sweet of you.”

“Like I said, no problem!” Yao gives a tiny pinch to Jenny’s cheek before grabbing his bag and standing up. “Looks like I have to go now, though… my meeting start in a few minutes. Maybe I see you again sometime? Probably be back next week.”

As if your face could get any redder. “Oh, uh… yeah. That sounds great!”

“ _Jīngcǎi!_ See you then, but for now I gotta run!” He gives one last wave to Jenny before heading off toward the mall exit. “ _Zàijiàn!_ ”

Maybe babysitting has its perks, after all.

* * *

**Denmark**

High-energy concerts have always been your thing ever since you were old enough to go to them. There’s something about the pulsing roar of the crowd you’re a part of, watching your favorite band perform up on stage, singing and dancing along. It just always gets you completely psyched up, and by the end of the night when you’re ready to relax, you have a bunch of new memories.

Tonight you’ve made sure to arrive as early as you possibly can to make sure you don’t miss a thing. The queue is short so far, with only about ten other people in front of you. They’re starting to get fired up, which in turn gets your blood pumping. This is gonna be a great night! Amazing music, a couple of good drinks, maybe you might make some new friends in the rest of the audience. You’ve tried talking to the group in front of you, but after the brief exchange of _“I’m so excited!” “Haha, yeah, me too! This band is great!” “Yeah, they’re my favorite!” “Mine, too!”_ , the conversation kind of tapered off. It’s understandable, though, given that you’re a stranger and they all seem to be friends already. That’s okay. This isn’t the entire crowd, after all; there’s bound to be someone in the rest of the attendees who’s willing to hang out with you at least for the night.

“Aw, yeah, baby!!” you hear someone shout behind you in some kind of accent, accompanied by the sound of boots on the pavement. “ _Dette bliver den bedste nat nogensinde!_ This band is the absolute coolest! Totally awesome!”

It sounds like whoever this is, he’s already excited for the concert. You turn around to greet him, hoping that maybe you might be able to keep up a good back-and-forth with him. “This band’s my favorite too!”

“ _Du laver sjov!_ ” The boy you’re facing is… _really_ cute. His blonde hair is styled so that it’s sticking up, but not quite like a mohawk, and his light blue eyes are full of sparkles. There’s a big grin on his face, too. If there was any doubt that he was ready to go in right this second, that’s immediately dispelled by having just one look at him. “I _love_ these guys! There’s a giant poster of them on the ceiling in my room!”

You let out a snort, your shoulders shaking with laughter. The idea of this guy lying in bed under a poster of this band is adorable. Actually, the idea of anyone lying in bed under a poster of their favorite band is adorable. “That’s so cool! My big poster is taped to the inside of my fridge so I see it every time I get something to eat.”

“ _Åh gud,_ that’s brilliant! I’m jealous I didn’t think of it first!” He returns your laughter, and his smile shines that much brighter. “My name’s Mathias, by the way. It’s really easy for me to travel, so when I heard these guys were playing here, I just had to come check it out! Who knows, maybe I’ll stay here for a while! It’s a nice little city!” Before you can think, his hand has grabbed yours, and he’s planted a light kiss on the back of your knuckles. “Besides, if all the girls here are as pretty as you, it can’t be bad at all!”

Red blossoms over your face for half a second before disappearing. Wow, what a flirt! You’ve got no problem with that, though. He’s a genuinely nice guy, and the only one who’s interested enough to keep up a conversation with you so far. “Aw, thanks! Speaking of traveling–” Your fingers curl around his in an effort to reciprocate. “Where are you from, anyway? Your accent is _hot!_ ”

Blush glows on his face for a second, too. “Haha!! _Tror du virkelig det?_ That’s the first time I’ve gotten _that_ compliment! _Tak!_ I’m from Denmark!” He keeps his hand in yours, giving it a little swing. “Hey, baby, I just got an idea! We should party together, and then we can go back to my hotel to hang out! My brothers decided to stay at a different hotel, so they won’t be killjoy-ing all over the place. Sound like fun?”

And boy, does it, actually. You don’t plan on drinking much or physically hooking up with this guy, but… dancing at the concert and having a few drinks with him before just hanging around together sounds like a great time. “Yeah, that sounds great! We’ll just have to make sure neither of us drink too much, right? We can always take a taxi back to your hotel – just don’t wanna end up doing something either of us might regret in the morning, haha!”

“Oh, totally, totally! Don’t worry about that, I don’t usually drink that much!” He’s still not letting go of your hand, and to be honest, you don’t think you would let him even if he tried.

You keep talking with Mathias while waiting for the concert to actually start. By the time security begins to let people in, the two of you have given each other a kiss on the cheek.

By the time the first song ends, you’ve tasted his lips and your heart is pounding louder than the band’s bass drum.

* * *

**England**

A lot of people don’t think that being a librarian is a very exciting job. And, sure, maybe it might not be a high-adrenaline rush, but that’s part of why you like it. It’s slow-paced and relaxing, so that you don’t have to worry about deadlines or anything. It’s peaceful, and that’s a perfect fit for you.

Today is… pretty much like any other day, you suppose. There haven’t been huge influxes of visitors, giving you and some other workers a chance to put away some of the books that people have left in the wrong places or books that have simply been returned. Until anyone else comes back with books to return, that part of today is done. Now you’re standing at the front desk computer, working on a flyer design for an upcoming children’s event. It’s a fairly easy thing to make; you just want to be certain it looks professional _and_ kid-friendly.

As you’re typing away, a shock of blonde hair catches your eye and you straighten up to greet the patron who’s walking this way. “Hi! Did you find everything you were looking for?”

The man you’ve just said hello is actually rather handsome. Aside from his thick eyebrows, (which aren’t even really that bad, in your opinion), he has bright golden hair cut short, and the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen. Another thing that sticks out is that he’s dressed nicely – better than the typical jeans and T-shirt most patrons wear, anyway. “Yes, I did! Thank you for asking.” His voice is soft and polite, with a noticeable British accent. The three books he sets down are all at least half an inch thick, and as you glance at the spines, you see they’re all titles that you know. “I’m afraid, though, I need a card for this library. I’m visiting here, so… I haven’t had the pleasure of being in this beautiful building before.”

“Aw, you’re sweet. You obviously have great taste in literature, too – these are some of my favorites. As for the library card, that’s no problem! We’ll get you signed up for one right now.” You minimize the graphics program you were using to make the flyer design before pulling up the database to add him in. “I’ll just need your name, birth date, and phone number.”

“Oh – right, right.” For whatever reason, he looks a little anxious when you mention that simple information. It almost seems like he has to think about it for a moment. “My name is Arthur Kirkland, my birth date is the 23rd of April, and my cell phone number… ah, blast. I can never remember it!” Before you can say anything, he pulls out his cell phone and hits a few buttons, then happily tells you what his number is.

You flash a patient smile in the hopes that it will make him feel a little more at ease. “Thank you, Mr. Kirkland! You’re in our database now. My name’s (Y/N), by the way.” Quick fingers grab a blank library card, turning it over as you slide it across the desk for him. “Okay, so, all you have to do is sign your name on the back, let it dry, and you’ll be able to check out books from here any time.” You hand him a pen with fast-drying ink, and lean over to point at something on the card. “Also, this right here will be your card-holder’s ID. If you’re ever on the go or just not in town, you can use that to borrow from our selection of audio books and music tracks!”

Signing his name takes little time, and he returns your smile. “My, thank you. You’re awfully helpful, I must say!” Once the ink is dry and you start checking the books out for him, his demeanor turns a bit nervous again. “Ah, miss. I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward, but… would it be alright for me to ask you to dinner tonight?”

If you blushed any more immediately, people probably would have heard it a mile away. “O-Oh… no, no, you’re not being forward at all!” You consider it for a moment as you finish scanning the last of the books. What do you really have to lose? He seems like an absolute gentleman. It’s almost like he walked off the pages of a romance novel! “That… sounds like it would be a wonderful evening. Does seven work for you?”

“Ah – seven, right – brilliant, yes!” It seems like he’s attempting to match the hue of your blush. “That’s perfect, actually. Seven o’clock, then. Do you have any recommendations for a nice restaurant in the city? I would invite you to my home and cook for you, but… right now, my home is actually a hotel,” he chuckles.

You tear off the receipt from the machine and take the pen from the desk, jotting your address down on the back. “Actually, here’s my address. Why don’t you come to my place? We could cook together.”

“Oh…” His eyes are trained on you as you slip the paper into the book on top, and his smile gets wider. “That… that would be lovely. I’ll… see you at seven, then?”

“Not a moment later,” you joke, pushing the stack of books toward him.

“Fantastic. I’ll see you then, love; I’m looking forward to it.” His hand brushes yours when he takes them, and you feel your heart leap into your throat as you watch him leave.

Well. Maybe sometimes working in a library _can_ be heart-racing.

* * *

**France**

You have to admit, this whole speed-dating thing isn’t really where you imagined yourself hanging out tonight. Is five minutes really enough to get to know what’s important about someone? You’d much rather just pick someone out and spend a full evening with them. Still, your friends have had great experiences with this particular event; might as well take their recommendation. At least this way you won’t spend a full evening each on people who might turn out to be jerks.

Besides, a few drinks are included, and the price of the whole thing isn’t terrible. If you do end up finding someone nice who likes you back, you’ll be able to talk to them again. Even though it’s a little nerve-wracking, so far you’re not having a bad time. The wine you’ve been served has helped you relax enough that you haven’t completely _hated_ any of the men you’ve been paired with. There hasn’t really been any one big spark, though. They’re all okay guys, but you haven’t felt that click of attraction and passion with any of them.

It’s time for the last round, finally, which means the night is almost over. Even though it’s been a nice little event, you have to admit that you’ll be happy once you can go back home and fall in bed. You’ll probably just have to try your luck next time; unfortunately, you don’t think you’re interested in contacting any of these guys again.

You’re in the middle of taking another sip when your last partner for the night sits down across from you. And, hey… your eyes linger on him in a way they didn’t with any of the others. This guy is actually… really good-looking. You’d go so far as to call him sexy. His blonde hair is short, although it’s wavy and thick, and his blue eyes are shining in your direction. There’s also some little stubble of a beard on the very bottom of his chin. All in all… he looks kind of yummy.

“ _Bonsoir, ma chère!_ It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Every word that tumbles out of his mouth sounds like honey. Is that… French? The fact that you know absolutely no French makes him all the more intriguing to you. He sounds mysterious… but friendly. Surprising you, he gently takes your hand and kisses the back of your fingers. “My name is Francis Bonnefoy. ‘Ave you done zhis before?”

“Oh, uh… my name’s (Y/N). And – not really. This is kind of my first time doing… anything like this.” You make sure to smile as he says it, though, trying to ensure that you’re not nervous about the idea as a whole. “It’s been fun, though. You come to stuff like this often?”

God, that smile of his. You swear you’re feeling tipsier from just that smile than from the wine you’ve been drinking. “ _Euh,_ I wouldn’t say often. A friend told me about zhis, so, I just ‘ad to try it out a few times. I’ve ‘ad good results! Just… still ‘aven’t found that special… _je ne sais quoi,_ you know? Still looking for zhat lady who makes my ‘eart beat too fast for me to breathe!” One eyebrow arches, and when he puts your hand down, he doesn’t let go. “It is funny, zhough. Now zhat I’m talking about it… I zhink I’m feeling my ‘eart pound looking at you.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips as you lean forward and keep curling your fingers around his. “Oh, wow. Good looks _and_ poetry. You keep it up and I won’t wanna let you go after five minutes.”

“Ah, four minutes now, _ma chère!_ And you’re free to keep the date going once we all finish!” If you weren’t already anticipating it, that little wink he gives you would probably do you in. There’s just something about him that oozes charm and magnetism.

Your face crinkles up as you laugh again. “Oh, God. I don’t think they encourage that. Here’s hoping we meet again though, right?” You raise your glass toward the one he carried with him, swirling your drink as you hope for a toast.

His smile widens and he picks up his glass to clink it against yours. “ _Santé!_ To our health, _ma chère,_ and to our potential romance!”

“ _Santé!_ ” you repeat before downing the rest of your wine. “Did I say that right?”

“ _Oui,_ very good for not having spoken it before!” After draining half of his own drink, Francis leans forward and rests his cheek on his hand. “So, _chère,_ what do you do for a living? Oh, _pardonnez-moi,_ of course I mean besides being gorgeous.”

Boy, does he have you in his grip. Once the event is over, he’s the only one you mark down as being interested in further contact with.

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re the one pining after someone else. How are you ever going to wait to see if he wants you too…?

* * *

** Germany **

Going on a date is usually a good time, depending on the person you’re going with. Having your friend set you up without even knowing who you’re going with? A little less fun.

It’s stressed you out the whole afternoon. What’s this guy going to be like? Will he be nice and respectful? Rough around the edges? Or did your friend pick a total loser,  playboy , or asshole for you?  To make things worse, she won’t tell you anything about him. You don’t even know the guy’s name or what he does for a living!

The entire time while you’re getting ready, you have to stop every few minutes thanks to feeling self-conscious. Not about your looks, really; you love the way your hair and outfit look. The perfume you picked is nice, too. What makes you anxious is your personality. By not giving you any information about the guy you’re going out with, it feels like your friend hasn’t given you  _ any _ time to prepare. You don’t know what this boy’s going to be like, so how do you know if he’s even going to like you? What kind of topics should you avoid talking about? Where’s he going to take you… or is he going to want you to choose? Is he going to pay, or are you each paying your own way, or are you going to pay?

None of that stuff bothers you one way or the other, but… it would just be nice to know in advance so you’re ready. So you don’t make yourself look like a total dork in front of this guy.

By the time your friend calls to let you know that your date is on his way, you’ve managed to calm yourself down at least a little bit. The next few minutes are a vicious cycle of “okay, I’m ready” and “oh, God, I can’t do this,” and you’re trying to pull yourself out of the latter when your doorbell rings.

You swallow hard before opening the door, and you’re greeted with… what looks like a very attractive man. He’s tall, with slicked-back blonde hair and sky blue eyes, and built with muscle from what you can see. It looks like he’s just as nervous as you are… which, to be honest, is a bit of a relief. In one hand he’s holding a small bunch of flowers, and after a moment of you two staring at each other, he quickly holds them out to you. “Er… good evening…” His voice is thick with a German accent, but not so much so that you can’t understand him. It’s actually kind of cute as far as you’re concerned. “… My… friend didn’t tell me much, so I… I’m afraid I don’t know your name…”

As you take the flowers, your heart finally stops beating against your ribs. So far, so good. He seems like a sweet guy. “That’s okay. I, uh… I don’t know your name either! Looks like we both kinda got roped into this without a lot of briefing, huh?” You offer a smile that will hopefully put him at ease, and turn to set the flowers in a nearby vase. “Um – thanks for the flowers. That was really nice of you! My name’s (Y/N) (L/N), by the way. Come on in.”

“ _Danke…_ ” It becomes clear that he’s wearing a heavy pair of boots as he comes inside, although they’re not too loud. He looks around and nods a few times, fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ludwig Beilschmidt. So… vhich of your friends set you up?”

“(F/N). She’s always setting me up on these things,” you chuckle, “but she’s never refused to tell me at least a little about my date before! Sorry we got dragged into this.”

He shakes his head and continues playing with his hands; like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “No, don’t be. Trust me. Zhis was _all_ Feliciano’s idea.”

“Oh, Feli!” You’ve actually met him a few times – he’s your friend’s boyfriend. “That’s (F/N)’s boyfriend!”

“ _Ja._ He planted zhe idea in her head.” For the first time, he cracks a little smile. “I like to joke zhat zhey share one brain.”

You snort and cover your mouth. “Oh, my God, that’s so mean!” But you’re laughing, so it’s not like you’re the picture of unadulterated kindness either. “That is… wow. That’s funny.” One hand pushes some stray hair behind your ear as you look own. “So, um… since we’re both kind of stuck doing this anyway, why don’t we try to have a good time?”

His smile mellows from looking uneasy to looking completely genuine. “Zhat sounds like a good idea. Vould you mind if… ve just… get some take-out und hang out here?”

“Hey, that sounds great. I know the perfect place to order from.” You return the smile, happy that he’s okay with something casual. “Make yourself at home and I’ll call that in.”

Maybe the night won’t be so bad after all.

* * *

**Italy**

The weekends are always kind of busy for you, at least in the morning. Being the sous chef at a small Italian restaurant in town means that sometimes the head chef sends you out to do tasks that he can’t do since he has to stay at the restaurant until closing. The weekends are days when the owner sends you out to various places with samples of the restaurant’s fare, in an effort to bring in some more customers.

The setup is actually pretty simple most of the time. Depending on what it is you’re offering on a particular day, you’ve either got chafing dishes or tubs of ice. It’s typically only one or two dishes that you’re giving samples of.  The part that involves the most work is cooking, transporting, and then getting it all set up. After that, usually you just sit around calling to anyone who walks by. Some people approach you on their own, and some are enticed by your shouts – or the smell of the food.

Today, the samples are one appetizer and one dessert. It’s a nice little pairing, giving people a taste of something savory and something sweet. As long as you work, the head chef and owner have no problem with you also enjoying some samples as a free lunch.  You haven’t seen anyone pass by in about fifteen minutes, so you’ve pulled out your phone for a minute and are munching away when you suddenly hear someone approaching your stand.

You quickly swallow and set your phone down to greet the potential customer. “ _ Buongiorno! _ ”

The person in front of you is a young man who looks awfully excited by the food. He’s got auburn hair with one long, unruly curl, and his eyes are somewhere between golden and mocha… and sparkling regardless. “ _ Buongiorno, bella! _ ” That catches you a little off guard. Not many people greet you back in Italian! One finger points down to the food. “ _ Quanto costa? _ ”

“Oh–” You shake your head, grabbing a plate for him. “They’re free samples! Bruschetta and tiramisu, made from scratch by the homiest Italian restaurant in the city. Would you like to try some?”

“ _Sì, per favore!!_ ” If it was possible, his face lights up even more when he grabs the plate and takes his first bite. That curl of his straightens out briefly before rolling back up. “Mmm, _gustosa!_ You made this?”

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Is he really impressed by the stuff you made…? It’s not like these were complex dishes or anything. “Yeah. Well – it’s the head chef’s recipe, but I’m the one who actually put it all together. It’s that good, huh?”

“ _Sì, così delizioso!_ ” Within minutes, the samples you gave him are gone, and his face is a little pink. “Ah, _mi dispiace,_ but… do you think I could have another plate? I’m going to a meeting, and this is so good, I wanna share with my friends!”

“Oh… um, sure! Actually, I have some little boxes here. This way I can put a few bruschetta in one and a big piece of tiramisu in the other so it’s easier to split and share.”

It doesn’t seem like he’s ever stopped smiling the entire time he’s been here. It’s… kind of cute, to be honest. “ _ Grazie!  _ Ah, you’re so nice. I guess I’m being kind of rude, it’s just that I’m in a hurry, and if I’m late again, Ludwig won’t be happy. But I just – I  _ had _ to stop and have some!”

You chuckle as you go to fill the small boxes as much as you’re able. “Don’t worry! You’re not rude at all. You’re actually the sweetest person who’s come up to me all day.” Before you hand him the boxes, you hand over one of the business cards for the restaurant to him. “Here! If you really like the food that much,  why don’t you come by or get take-out sometime? We’re open all week, plus Saturday and Sunday! And if you’re ever looking for a special lunch for your meeting or something, we do catering and parties! Tell your friends too,  _ sì? _ ”

“ _Certamente!_ How could I keep food like this to myself??” He happily shoves the card into one of the many pockets on his… uniform? It looks like he takes special care not to bend it, though. “Thank you so much, _bella!_ I’m definitely gonna stop by sometime!”

That smile of his is contagious, and there’s a similar one on your face as you hand him the boxes. “ _ Grazie! Buona giornata! _ ”

“ _Altrettano!_ ” he calls, waving with his free hand as he heads off down the sidewalk.

You can’t help but watch after him, the smile still lingering on your face. You really hope you’ll be on shift when he comes to the restaurant.

* * *

**Japan**

It doesn’t really matter what your friends are dragging you to – you’re _always_ the odd one out. Whether you’re shy, introverted, or just plain not great at being social, it always happens. They all go off to have fun, leaving you behind. You have to wait around awkwardly since they’re usually your ride home. It makes you feel like some kind of weird third wheel.

Tonight is just another example. Even though they love you, and you love them, they just have never really understood that whatever they pull you along to, it’s just not your thing. This time it’s a party in a local rec center. It’s nearing midnight, and so far, all you’ve done is sit at a table by yourself, snacking and taking sips of your water. (Nah. You don’t trust the punch at these kinds of things. Most of the time some idiot spikes it even if the party isn’t supposed to involve alcohol.) You try to watch everyone else have fun and just listen to the music, waiting until your friends are ready to leave.

The music melts into a slow song, and that’s when you hear a soft voice speaking beside you. “Excuse me, wourd you mind if I sit here?”

You look up to meet the big brown eyes of someone you don’t recognize. He looks Asian, with black hair in a short, neat cut, and dressed maybe a touch too formally for a party like this. If you had to guess, it seems like he feels out of place too. “Um… no, no, go ahead.”

“Thank you.” He pulls out a chair, two chairs away from where you’re sitting, and lowers himself down. “I’m sorry. Normarry I wourdn’t try to sit with a stranger, but… the other tabres… are…” Is it just you, or is he blushing? Aw, geez. Poor guy. “… Arso furr of… peopre I don’t know. Since you were the onry one sitting arone…”

You hold up a hand and give him the most genuine smile you can muster up. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. It’s better to just go with one stranger than a whole bunch of them.” When you put your hand down, your fingers start to fiddle with the cap of your water bottle. “Nothing I haven’t done a few times myself.”

If he wasn’t blushing before, he certainly is now. “… Ah… _hajimemashite._ It’s a preasure to meet you. My name is Honda Kiku.”

“Oh! My name’s (Y/N) (L/N).” You’d extend a hand to him if you thought it wouldn’t just make him more nervous. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Honda.”

The smallest of smiles appears on his lips, and his fingers immediately fly up to suppress it. “Oh, ah… no, no, (L/N)-san. Honda is my famiry name. My first name is Kiku.”

Now it’s your turn to blush. “Oh… oh, I’m sorry!! I guess I don’t really know much about… I’m guessing Japan…?”

“ _Hai,_ you’re right, I am from Japan. Don’t be sorry.” His fingers twitch for a few seconds, then he slowly moves his hand towards yours. “It was a simpre mistake, and you did not offend me in any way.” The look on his face kind of suggests, actually, that he thinks it was cute. “We can… shake hands, or… bow in greeting. Whichever you wourd prefer.”

A smile slips onto your face as well. “I’d be fine with bowing except everyone else might look at us weird. How about we shake hands now, and we can bow to each other the next time we meet?”

“That… sounds rike a wonderfur compromise.” The grip he takes on your hand isn’t very firm, but it’s warm regardless. “Officiarry… nice to meet you, (L/N)-san.”

To be honest, the grip you give him isn’t much better, and you pull away immediately after speaking. “Officially nice to meet you too, Kiku – uh, no, wait. Honda-san? Is that right? What does -san mean, by the way…?”

His hands go back to his lap just as quickly. Despite still looking a little jumpy, he’s smiling again. “You are so kind to be interested in my curture. -San is just a porite way of addressing someone who you don’t know very werr. If we knew each other better,” he adds upon seeing the question already forming on your lips, “you courd carr me Kiku-kun and I courd carr you (Y/N)-chan. If… werr, if we were _very_ crose, we could just carr each other Kiku and (Y/N). In Japanese curture, it’s… simpry extremery rude to forego honorifics when you aren’t crose to the person.”

“Wow… fascinating!” You’ve read a little about Japan, but you never got very deep into the culture before something else pulled your interest away. It sounds like they place a lot of value on being respectful, which is nice. The world could definitely use more respect. “It, um… it probably would sound stupid if I said I’d, uh… I’d like to get to know you better? You seem really nice. It would be really… really cool if maybe we could see each other again, after this party, and maybe see if we could be friends?”

The smile fades a little, not because of what you said – more because he seems to be a little insecure about making friends. “No, no. That is not stupid at arr. I… think I wourd rike that very much, too, actuarry.”

Well… look at that. Something good came of this party after all.

* * *

**Lithuania**

Starting any kind of new job is hard. All these butterflies in your stomach and chest are just… normal, right? It’s what happens to everyone when they’re going to go on a… ‘new adventure’, for lack of a better phrase. And God, you wish you could come up with a better phrase right now. Every part of you hopes this job won’t be too challenging. History isn’t on your side when it comes to difficult tasks.

On the plus side, at least your employer seems to be pretty easygoing. His name’s Ivan (although you’re either supposed to call him _Mr. Ivan_ or _Mr. Braginsky_ ) and you have yet to see him without a smile on his face. He’s told you that he has three other employees, and he’s looking forward to having you work with them. It seems like he’s got a tendency to pat at your head and pet your hair, which isn’t quite as awkward as you might think. You think it’s probably going to be a pretty good deal working for him.

Today is your first day, and despite the fact that you’re excited to work for him, the whole thing still makes you kind of anxious.

It takes a moment for the door to open after you knock on it a few times. It’s answered by a young man with light shoulder-length hair and the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. He’s rather slight, and looks about as nervous as you feel. “Oh! _Sveiki!_ You must be (Y/N) (L/N), right? Mr. Ivan told me you would be coming along today to join us! It will be very nice to have you here.”

Your face heats up a little as you take in this guy who is… very obviously not your boss. Even though Ivan told you he had other workers, he neglected to mention that at least one of them is _really_ handsome. “Ah…!” At last you find your voice, and thank goodness. You were starting to feel like a dummy just standing there staring at him. “Y – Yeah, that’s me! (Y/N) (L/N)! Can I, um… ask your name?”

“Oh, of course! Sorry; hah, my mind is somewhere else today, I guess! Would probably lose my head if it wasn’t attached.” The good-natured smile he gives as he ushers you inside and shuts the door puts you a little more at ease. “My name’s Toris Laurinaitis, and I’m one of Mr. Ivan’s employees. The others are doing some work right now, so you’ll meet them later – their names are Eduard and Raivis, and they’re very nice! None of us really have official titles, so… we just kind of do whatever Mr. Ivan tells us needs done on any particular day. It’s usually a lot of cleaning, cooking, laundry, repair work… that kind of thing. Sometimes we start his paperwork for him if he wants, since he usually has a lot.”

A nod is your initial reply as you follow him in, your suitcase rolling quietly behind you. “Oh, so, you guys are kind of like jacks-of-all-trades, then, huh? I’ll have to warn you, somebody might need to teach me how to, like… polish stuff, hah, you know? I’m good at cooking, though!”

“Oh, that’s good, that’s good! We’re all pretty fair cooks, too, but many hands make light work, right?” As soon as he notices your luggage, Toris leans over to grab it from you. “Here, let me get that! I’ll show you to your room, but Mr. Ivan said I should get you right to working, so you’ll have to unpack later. My apologies!”

“No, no, that’s okay! Probably best that I get right to work and show off how eager I am.” There’s just something about this guy that makes it easy for you to relax around him. He seems so genuine and sweet. “What are we doing first…?”

The walk to your room is actually very short, and he’s opening the door in a matter of maybe a dozen steps or less. “Well, Mr. Ivan will be back for lunch, so Eduard has started on that. I think Raivis is helping him. So you and I will probably do some quick organizing in the storage room, then go set the table, and clean the kitchen after those two have finished cooking. Once Mr. Ivan comes back and finishes his lunch, we can have something to eat. After that… let’s see. After that, we listen to directions from Mr. Ivan! Usually he wants us to wash the dishes before anything else, but sometimes he likes to switch it up. Keep us on our toes.” There’s something off about that smile he gives you now, though. He’s been really straightforward up till now, but that smile… there’s something almost false about it. Like he’s trying to reassure you about something that hasn’t happened yet.

You return the smile as best you can, although a tad less certain now than you were before. Is he okay? Maybe he’s just tired thinking about the long day ahead… “Well, how about we get to work then? I can’t wait to see other parts of the house and meet everyone else a little later!”

“Hah, great! You’re enthusiastic. That’s great.” Toris reaches to take your hand, giving your fingers a gentle squeeze. “This way to the storage room! We’ll start with organizing since it’s pretty easy. Don’t want to give you too much heavy lifting on your first day! Let’s get to work, _gerai?_ ”

Although the storage room is kind of dark when you get there, those little smiles he keeps giving as you work are all the light you need.

* * *

**Poland**

The best thing about shopping is that it’s completely relaxing if you’re not looking for something specific. Well, as far as you’re concerned, anyway. It’s really nice to just spend a morning or afternoon looking at a bunch of different clothes and accessories, taking your time and maybe having a nice lunch or dinner afterwards. What could make you happier than having some pretty new things to wear and a few hours of memories?

Today’s little outing is a store that you’ve never actually visited before. It’s not big enough that you might get lost, but it’s not a tiny place without a lot of variety either. One of your friends recommended it, saying she got a great deal on shoes there the last time she went. From what you can see in the window, everything looks really lovely, too. There’s a lot of pink… even though it’s not your _favorite_ color, you have to admit, some of the stuff looks really adorable. Time to head in and check it all out! Who knows? You might leave with some cool things.

One of the employees greets you when you come in, asking if you need help. You wave her off and let her know you’re not looking for anything in particular. Pretty soon your attention is caught by the racks and stands of different products. Everything in here is actually really nice, not to mention fairly affordable. You’re humming along and pulling out a few things you like when you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s followed by a voice that sounds kind of soft and nervous, but still distinctly masculine. “ _Przepraszam…_ ” Oh. What language is that…?

When you look up, you’re met with a young man who’s currently wearing a pink dress. His hair is blonde and cut short, while his eyes are green and look like they’re avoiding your gaze. The outfit he’s wearing includes a flowing knee-length skirt and off-the-shoulder short sleeves, plus a lot of glitter. He’s also got on one of those silver letter necklaces, and the letter pendant on it is an _F._ “Sorry if I’m bothering you. Um–” He lifts his arms a bit, flaring some of the skirt with them and looking down. You have to admit you’re kind of relieved that he can speak English, since you have no idea what he said before. “Can you tell me how this looks? I think I got a size too small, but this was, like, the last one they had…”

“Oh, well… if you ask me, I think it looks really cute.” Shifting everything you’ve picked up to rest over your elbow, you reach and try to pinch parts of the dress out a little. It doesn’t exactly work that well; this thing is really form-fitting. “I mean, does it feel too tight anywhere? That’s the only thing I’d be worried about.”

“Mm… not really. I mean, girl clothes are usually always a little tight in, like…” His face pinks up a bit, and you’re sure that if he could look away from you any more he would. “Um, y’know. Certain places. But other than that, this feels pretty good.” One hand smooths out the top a bit, adjusting the bow that’s on the center of the chest. “It’s, like, skintight, but not, like… in a bad way. Doesn’t, like, hurt or anything.”

All you can think to do to reassure him is to give him a smile and pat his arm. “That’s good! Then yeah, if it feels okay, then I say it’s probably fine. That’s what I always do if I’m getting things a size too small, just make sure it doesn’t hurt when I have it on.”

At least it seems to do the trick. His eyes flicker up for a second, then he returns the smile. “Great! I think I’ll get it. What do you think would, like… go good with this? Like…” A hand goes down toward his legs, and the other runs through his hair. “Like, some white leggings and a pink bow? Or should I go with, like, a different color bow? Or maybe, like, two bows or a clip or something?”

“Uh… I dunno! I think white leggings would look cute with that.” At this point you’re wondering why on Earth he’s asking _you,_ of all people, especially when it seems like he’s anxious around you. You’re happy to help, of course; it just strikes you as kind of strange. “And, actually, if you really want my opinion, you could go with a pink headband! It would be something different, and with that you could, like – put it so your bangs show, or you could use it to sweep your bangs back. Honestly, I think you’d look great in anything. You have such a pretty face.”

That makes his face turn almost totally red. “O-Oh, my God – t-thank you? Nobody ever says stuff like that to me… um! Why don’t I change out of this and then, would you mind, like, maybe helping me pick out a headband?”

You glance at the stuff you’ve got, then raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh, well, um… I guess I could use a shopping buddy. Have you been in this store before?”

Now his face flushes so violently that it alarms you this time. “Oh – _oh, my God!! O mój Bo_ _ż_ _e,_ I’m so sorry! I thought you worked here because you’re dressed so nice!”

“Oh–! Oh, God, no, don’t be sorry!” Although you really do mean it, you can feel your own face turn kind of pink thanks to the compliment. Nobody ever says stuff like that to _you,_ either. “Um, thanks, that’s… that’s really sweet. And, you know, a shopping buddy would be kind of nice! My name’s (Y/N), it’s really great to meet you!”

After a second, the blush starts fading from his cheeks. “Ah… great to meet you, too. My name’s Feliks Łukasiewicz. I’ll, like… go change and we can… shop together! Thanks for being so cool about this!”

He hurries off back toward the fitting rooms, and you can’t stop a smile from forming.

You can’t stop your heart from fluttering against your ribs, either.

* * *

**Prussia**

Is it just you, or is drinking more fun in a group than all alone? Drinking alone and not talking to anyone just feels kind of… sad. Even though your drink and snacks are good, the lack of interaction is starting to get to you. All your friends are busy tonight, but of course, you just  _ had _ to be in the mood to go drinking.

Your eyes scan the room for any good company before you down the rest of your drink. There’s nobody here that really looks all that interesting to you – to talk to, anyway. While there are a few good-looking guys, none of them seem to you like they would be able to keep up with you in a conversation.  _ Hm. _ Maybe you should just bite the bullet and talk to whoever’s the handsomest. If you’re going to do that, you’ll have to figure out who actually looks best by your standards.

… Ah, screw it. Not even the most attractive guy is worth more than a minute of boredom, and you’re not in the mood to get stuck talking to a loser all night.

Just as you order another drink, somebody sits down at the stool next to you. “Hey, _barmann!_ Zhe awesome me vill pay for zhe  awesome lady’s next drink, _ja?_ Und a beer for me!”

You see the bartender roll his eyes before he goes to get the drinks. “ _ Ja, ja, _ Gilbert! You better actually pay your tab soon,  _ arschloch _ _! _ ”

“Uh, you don’t have to buy my drink…” The words almost die on your lips when you turn to get a look at this guy.

You can’t say he’s the most good-looking man you’ve ever seen; there’s something unique about him, though. He’s got silvery hair, eyes somewhere between crimson and violet, and an air of laid-back, regular-everyday-boy charm. That confident smile and wink of his aren’t exactly hurting anything either. “ _ Wie geht es dir, cutie? _ I’m happy to get one for a pretty girl like you!  Probably zhe awesome me will look even better when you have zhose beer goggles on,  _ ja? _ ”

A chuckle leaves your lips as you reach to grab your new drink. He seems kind of full of himself, but… there’s something endearing about it. It’s not the same as a lot of other guys where they’re more interested in a score than in your personality. This guy? He seems truly into  _ you _ rather than how you can make him feel about himself. It’s almost like a playful arrogance where he doesn’t really believe everything he says. “Ah, I don’t know about that. It’ll be harder for you to look any hotter than you already do. I’d like to see this drink try, though.”

“Pfft, _mein Gott!_ You’re teasing me, _fräulein._ ” When his beer is slid in front of him, he picks up the glass and downs about half of it almost immediately. That’s weird, because as far as you can tell, it doesn’t look like he’s trying to impress you with his drinking. Maybe he just really likes beer? “I could say zhe same to you. No drink on Earth could make you look more gorgeous zhan God already did!”

A snort leaves you, then you follow his example and pound down a good deal of your drink as well. Better try to keep up with him, right? It’s not like you can’t handle it. “Now you’re the one teasing me,  holy shit. What a charmer! So your name’s – Gilbert?”

He leans against the bar, and that surprises you a little. You were expecting him to puff out his chest or something. “ _ Ja, _ Gilbert Beilschmidt! Zhat’s my awesome name, feel free to use it a lot because zhere’s no  _ vay _ it’ll wear out. Can I have your name? I’m sure you have an awesome one to match your pretty face!”

“Heh, well, if that’s what you wanna call it! My name’s (Y/N) (L/N). Nice to meet such an _awesome_ guy. A lot of the guys who usually come here are major tools.” That’s not a stretch, either. Everyone you’ve ever met here has either been a drunk asshole or just plain  dumber than a box of rocks. And even though he’s a little prideful, Gilbert doesn’t seem anything like that.

“Oh, not me, zhough?” An eyebrow arches up before he starts laughing. “ _Oh, mein Gott,_ vhat am I saying?! Of course I’m not a tool! I’m _awesome!_ ”

Your shoulders start to shake with laughter – this guy is just so adorable! That confidence he has is just enough to make him attractive without putting it over the top to have his head up his ass. “Yeah, you are. What about me, huh? Am I awesome?”

His elbow gives you a gentle jab in the stomach, a wide grin on his face. “Vhat are  _ you _ saying now, huh? Of course you’re awesome! You’re probably zhe most awesome  _ fräulein _ in here!”

“Is that right?” A deep breath in, and you tip your glass back to kill the rest of your drink. “Aaaahhhhh… haha, oh, God. I think the most awesome… _fräulein??_ – in here needs another drink, Mr. Beilschmidt…”  
As if that smile of his could get any wider. “ _Na sicher!_ Hey, zhe awesome lady needs anozher drink over here!”

After that, the drinks keep coming all night, but what really makes you giddy is the way you and Gilbert talk until last call.

* * *

**Romano**

Speaking technically, you don’t work for the same restaurant that your friend does. It’s a nice little Italian place, but at the moment they’re not hiring full-time or part-time. It’s unfortunate, since you really could use a job. Sometimes, though, you get a change to make maybe $20 or so when the owner of the restaurant (who knows you through your friend) will ask you to go pick up a n order of something. Usually it’s because they’re busy and nobody else can leave to go get it.

That’s okay, though. The fruits and vegetables come mainly from local farms, so it’s always nice to get out for a while and get some fresh air. Although the farmers don’t recognize you most of the time, all it takes is a flash of the order form you get from the owner and a little friendly chitchat to get acquainted with them.  They’re typically not rude or anything; decent, hardworking people. At least, all of them you’ve met so far have fit that description.

The farm you’re visiting for a pick-up today isn’t that far out of the city. You pull your truck in and wait for a moment, just having a little look around to admire the place. It’s one you haven’t been to before, although it looks a little more laid-back than a few of the other farms you’ve picked  stuff up from. There are only a few fences, whereas most of the other farms tend to have a lot of fences…

“ _Ehi, ragazza!_ What the hell are you doing just sitting there?!” Before you can even answer, there’s a young man leaning against the passenger side window, pulling off a wide-brimmed hat that he was wearing. “ I don’t recognize you, so you better tell me who you are and what you want right now!” His language and volume surprises you a little… no more than his good looks, though. He’s got short, dark brown hair that goes nicely with his light olive skin and deep green eyes. The look of irritation on his face makes it pretty clear that he’s not in the mood for nonsense. “ _Per l’amor di Dio, persone stupide solo pensano di poter venire qui ogni volta che vogliono… q_ _uesto è cazzo ridicolo…_ ”

“The fuck is _your_ problem?” You can’t stop yourself before that comes tumbling out. After all, who the hell is _he_ to talk to you like that? He looks kind of like one of the workers, but you can’t be fully sure. Your hand grabs the gearshift, slamming your truck into park before crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m here to pick up a n order for a restaurant! _Mio Dio, non essere un cazzo!_ ”

All the color drains from the man’s face when he hears you insult him in Italian – especially when he realizes you used one of the same words he did. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as it dawns on him that you speak Italian. Or, at least, enough to know that he just complained about you to your face in a language he thought you didn’t know. “Well – well, show me  the order form! You think I just take everybody’s word  and don’t ask for paperwork ?! I’m not an idiot!”

“I never said you were, asshole! The paper’s right here!” Your fingers snatch up the order form and wave it in front of his face. “ _Felice adesso?_ ”

“Don’t hold it five feet away from me, _cagna!_ ” He grabs it from you, his expression changing back to annoyed in a heartbeat. After a minute he seems satisfied and tosses it back into the truck. “Two questions first. My brother Feliciano’s stupid girlfriend works at that restaurant. You know her name?”

The name  _ Feliciano _ clicks a little in your brain. This guy’s brother is Feli? Your friend’s boyfriend who’s always smiley and sweet and never has a bad word to say about or to anyone? “Oh, my God,  _ you’re _ Feli’s brother?  _ Merda, che è troppo divertente. _ His girlfriend is (F/N), she’s my friend, and she’s not stupid, you fucking ass.”

His scowl deepens when he hears you say her name, although he just crosses his arms. “Okay, fine. What’s her job?”

“Sous chef. Do _you_ actually know any of this shit?”

“Hey, shut the hell up!” His face has turned red by now out of embarrassment, and you can’t say you don’t feel a little victorious. Bet he doesn’t feel so high and mighty now! “You wanna load the fucking order yourself, or you want me to do it?”

You drape one arm over the wheel and lean back. “ _ Puoi farlo. Per favore e grazie. _ ”

It looks like he’s gone even more flushed. “ _ Sì, sì,  _ fine! It’s not that big an order anyway. I’ll be back in a minute.”

That huff he gives and the way he stomps off make you feel that much more triumphant. What a jackass.

… You have to admit, though, you don’t hate the way he looks. And someone a little rough around the edges is… kind of hot, actually.

* * *

**Russia**

The best thing about working in a flower shop, you think, has to be all the beautiful colors. Flowers are all so different and bright in their own ways – how can anyone feel gloomy being surrounded by them all day? It seems like just being here helps you feel cheery. Even if you’re just cleaning up the floors, you have a tendency to hum and smile.

A day isn’t usually all that busy either, unless it’s some kind of holiday. It’s enough to keep the store’s profits up, but relaxing enough that you hardly ever feel overwhelmed by customers.  Most of your day is spent cleaning, organizing, planting, taking care of the flowers, and occasionally working at the register. One of the great things is that despite the weather, you’re surrounded by every hue of the rainbow. All you might be able to see from the window is rain or snow, yet inside everything is vibrant.

You’re alone in the store for today, and you’re singing a quiet nursery rhyme under your breath as you’re standing over at one of the stations planting in a couple of pots. It’s when you’re totally immersed in your work that you hear the bell on the door chime. Your eyes shift over, and your breath nearly catches in your throat when you see the person who’s walked in.

For one thing, he’s probably the tallest man you’ve ever seen.  Although his coat is rather heavy and it’s hard to tell, there seems to be a good bit of muscle to him given that he looks… bulky? His short sandy hair is neat, and his violet-blue eyes are darting around the store, wide as if he’s utterly in awe.

One hand grabs the cuff of your glove, ready to  shed the pair if necessary. “Good morning, sir!” you call with a smile. “Can I help you with something today?”

It seems like he didn’t even notice you were there until you spoke. Now he looks over at you though, and returns the smile. “Oh!  _ Privet! _ No, not yet… I’m just having a look around!” His voice is laden with a strong Russian accent, which might catch some people off guard. He seems nice enough, however, and you can understand him just fine. He seems to be gravitating toward the corner with the small sunflowers. “These I like very much.”

“Oh, yeah, they’re really lovely, aren’t they? Those ones are a miniature variety, and I planted them myself about three and a half months ago!” Your hands move to continue working, your eyes staying on the man. There’s something about the vibe he gives off that makes you feel more bouncy than usual. “We sell the miniature ones fully grown since they’re only around two feet tall, but we’ve also got seed packets to plant some of the bigger varieties if you’re interested in that. You do any gardening?”

“ _Em…_ not much. Would like to, but… is very cold  and snowy where I live. Not much grows. Besides…” His hand traces over one of the sunflower pots, a melancholy smile ghosting over his face. “Afraid I may not have much of a green thumb.”

You chuckle softly and finish up the last of the planting  for now before tugging your gloves off. “Well, there are actually a good number of flowers that can grow in just about any weather – including snow! Some of them are really pretty. I know you’re partial to the sunflowers, but I could show you some recommendations of other colorful plants that you might be able to grow? Witch hazel is a shrub, but it produces flowers that are usually yellow  and/ or red!  They can be purple depending on which species. Also, flowering quince is red… very nice, though, especially in the winter.”

The man’s cheeks flush slightly pink, and you’re not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not. “Oh… well, maybe I could try something different. You seem to know a lot about flowers!” His hand gently brushes the petals of one sunflower before returning it to his side. “Sometimes places like these, they hire people who don’t have any idea what they are talking about. It’s unavoidable in some lines of work, but… I like to think that if you are going to work with something, it should be something you’re passionate about.”

“Well, I do love flowers! Actually, I have some giant sunflowers planted in my backyard at the moment. They’re almost ten feet tall!” you laugh, tossing your gloves in the trash and going to grab a packet of witch hazel seeds to show him. Given that he seems to have a fondness for yellow, this is probably the best bet. “We can’t start witch hazel here since they’re shrubs, but the directions on the back of the seed packet are really easy, and you can always come back to ask if you have a problem. Do you think that’s something you might like to try?”

“ _Da,_ this sounds like good idea! This is the red and yellow one?”  His fingers bump against yours as he takes the packet from you and glances at the back. “I’ll take it. See if _something_ won’t grow. Also, do you think I could get small bouquet of the tiny sunflowers…? Is a gift for someone very beautiful.”

“Aww, sure! Let me go make that up, I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Once you’re in the back, it doesn’t take you too long to get a simple bouquet together and wrapped in shiny pink cellophane, tied up with a nice little bow. After coming back and making sure it’s what he wanted, you keep making small talk as you ring up his two items. As soon as he pays and you hand him the bouquet, he hands it back to you. Seeing your shocked expression, he smiles brightly. “Is for you! For being such a kind person and good help.”

“Oh–” This is a new one. Nobody’s ever bought flowers from you and given them to you as a present before. “That’s… that’s so sweet, thank you! I’m glad to help, though!”

That smile of his just keeps going, even as your face turns red. “ _ Da, _ and that is part of what makes you so nice. I should be going, so… I will be back to let you know how the plant goes! Goodbye for now,  _ podsolnukh! _ ”

The ding of the bell barely registers as you place the bouquet into a vase, a smile lingering on your lips too.

Just thinking about that man and his kind gesture gives you the same feeling you get when you look at all the flowers.

* * *

**Switzerland**

As far as you’re concerned, a nice walk is the perfect way to spend an afternoon before heading back to work. Your lunch break isn’t long, so most of the time you walk around eating your lunch on the move. Today is one of those rare days you finished early, resulting in you just walking along with your hands in your pockets. The scenery near your work is always gorgeous, and you stop to pick a flower before continuing.

When you walk a little farther down the way you’re going, a young lady suddenly comes into view. She’s sitting on the sidewalk crying, with a violet ribbon in her hands, pressed up against the building. The poor thing looks completely distraught, and you can’t bring yourself to just walk by without seeing if there’s anything you can do for her. What kind of world would it be if everybody just walked past someone who clearly needs help?

“Hey,” you call softly as you kneel down beside her. Hands are kept away for now, just until you can see if she’s okay. “Are you hurt?”

It’s clear you startled her, but she doesn’t scream or run. Instead she just shakes her head and more tears spill over her eyelid. “N-No…” After she waits a moment, she raises a hand to rub at her eyes. “I’m lost… my big _bruder_ usually keeps a good eye on me, but…”

You take a chance and lay a gentle hand on her shoulder as you sit down next to her. “What happened?”

She shakes her head again, continuing to scrub her tears away – or at least attempt to. “H-He looked away just for a second… und my ribbon…” The item in question is held up to show you before her chest starts heaving with sobs again. “Z-Zhe wind blew it away! Und so I ran a-after it… because _Bruder_ gave me this ribbon, und I didn’t want to lose it! W-When I caught it… I didn’t know where I was anymore, und _Bruder_ was gone… he’s probably looking for me, b-but he doesn’t know where I went…”

“Oh, dear.” It surprises you a little that she leans into your touch when you put your arm around her shoulders to comfort her. It seems like she’s a fairly trusting person, and you silently thank the stars that nobody untrustworthy came along. Sounds like she’s had a rough day, too, poor girl. “What does your brother look like?”

“ _Ä_ _h…_ kind of like me, I guess.” As she leans her head on your shoulder, you get a better look at her. Her hair is a dirty blonde color, and her eyes look blue-green. She’s also dressed in some kind of what you assume to be a uniform – olive green and fairly plain otherwise. “His hair is lighter, und his eyes are green. He’s taller zhan me, too… but we wore zhe same kind of outfit today.” The look she gives you when she glances up at you practically breaks your heart. “Will you help me find him…? I don’t know where to look…”

Your arm gives her a reassuring squeeze, fingers lightly rubbing her arm. “Actually, I think we should stay here. When you’re lost, especially if you don’t know the area well, it’s better to stay put as soon as you realize you’re lost. That way you don’t wind up getting even more lost.” Other than what you’re already doing, though, nothing comes to mind as to how you can make her feel better while you wait for her brother to find her. “But I’ll sit with you and keep an eye out for your brother, okay? You just take deep breaths and try to relax.” The fingers of your other hand anxiously twirl a stem and you remember your flower. Ah, that gives you an idea. “Hey, what’s your name, hon?”

“E-Erika…” Even though she’s still upset, it looks like the reassurance that you’ll stay with her has calmed her down at least a little. “What’s yours?”

“I’m (Y/N), and it’s really nice to meet you. Erika, would you like this?” You hold the flower up in front of her, offering a small smile. “It would look really pretty with your bow in your hair, I think. Would you like me to get this and your bow tied up in your hair for you?”

After a few seconds of thought, she gives a little nod and the tiniest of smiles. “Mhm… thank you…”

It doesn’t take long to get the flower’s stem and her bow weaved into her hair, and you’re humming the whole time in an effort to soothe her a little bit. “There, you look so pretty! Now–” You raise one hand, gingerly wiping the tears away from her eyes. “No more crying, okay? You’ll get your nice dress all wet! You’d be cute anyway, but you don’t want your brother to find you crying, right?”

“ _HEY!_ ” When you immediately snap your head up at the noise, you see an angry-looking blonde coming your way. By the way he’s dressed and his eyes, it’s safe to assume that this is Erika’s brother. “What the hell’s your problem, leading my sister away from me?! Get your hands off her!”

In an instant, the man has pulled Erika up into a hug, his entire body tense and glaring at you, while you’re too stunned to say anything. Erika tries to explain once she realizes you can’t speak. “ _Bruder,_ no, you don’t understand! She didn’t–”

But he’s having none of it. “You don’t have to lie for this girl!” A pointed look is given to you, his icy green eyes cutting right through you. “You, stay away from my little sister! If you come near her again, I’ll shoot you! Come on, Erika, we’re going home!”

With that, he’s leading her away – leaving you to stare after them in silence, and wonder just why your heart’s suddenly beating so fast.


End file.
